


Kloktober, Oct. 24th: Snow or Pumpkin Carving

by Morpheus626



Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [24]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Decided to go with pumpkin carving, since I already had snow featuring in a previous fic for Kloktober. Plus, it’s getting close to Halloween, and since I can’t carve a pumpkin this year, I can let the boys have that instead.Synopsis: Murderface takes pride in what he does, including pumpkin carving each year. He puts hard work in, his blood, sweat, and tears.This year, maybe slightly too much blood, however.TW: Blood, hand injuries, and self-harm (but not done in like a punishment way, done in a stupid exclusive to Murderface way. In any case, it’s not angsty, just...really fucking dumb for Murderface to do, but of course that doesn’t stop him.)
Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948486
Kudos: 4





	Kloktober, Oct. 24th: Snow or Pumpkin Carving

“Holy shits!” Skwisgaar crowed. “Murderface...that ams amazing.” 

“It looks like real blood!” Pickles added, poking at the red stained on the pumpkin. “How’d you do that?” 

“Uh...” Murderface shrugged. “Just did a good job with the paint, I guess.” 

He flexed his hand awkwardly behind his back. The bandages were getting increasingly wet. 

“Hell yeah,” Nathan laughed. “Dude, and the fangs! This is metal as fuck.” 

“Sure is,” Murderface agreed, as his vision started to waver. 

“I likes how yous makes the eyes blues,” Toki said. “That ams an interesting creatives choice, for a hells beast.” 

Murderface managed a nod. He couldn’t flex his hand anymore, and he felt light-headed. 

But he couldn’t pass out now. Not when they were being so nice, complimenting him and his pumpkin that he’d worked so hard on. 

“Dude,” Pickles said. “You okay?” 

“Looks a little pales,” Skwisgaar added. 

Toki opened up the top of the pumpkin, and shrieked, shaking its contents out onto the table. 

Two of Murderface’s fingers. 

“The knife...schlipped...” Murderface managed before he passed out, his chin clipping the table as he fell. 

They stared as Toki set the pumpkin down, swallowing hard. 

“So..he wins the carving contest this year, right?” Nathan asked. “I mean, I think we have to give it to him.” 

“He literallys ams possibly dyings for it,” Skwisgaar said, gesturing to Murderface, bleeding out from his hand on the kitchen floor. “It ams the most metals he ams ever been.” 

“We should probably get those on ice,” Pickles said, gently picking up Murderface’s severed fingers. “I mean, I know we redo all his parts...but he’s still gotta be able to play.” 

Toki nodded. “Cans I bes excused please?” 

“Are you really grossed out by this?” Pickles asked. “We’ve seen way worse...you like...beat a guy to death yourself!” 

“This ams different!” Toki cried. “I can’ts bears it...” 

“Okay, okay, jesus,” Nathan scoffed. “We’ll uh...I don’t know. Do we like, call an ambulance?” 

“We could drive him ourselves,” Pickles said as he went to the freezer, and dropped Murderface’s fingers into a baggy with three ice cubes. 

“We coulds,” Skwisgaar said. “But then wes has to waits with him in the waitings room...reads a magazines, maybe gets a water bottles from a vendings machine...when we coulds stay here, and finish carvings our pumpkins.” 

“Ambulance it is!” Pickles chirped, pulling his cellphone from his pocket and dialing with his free hand. “Hello? Yeah, it’s me again. No, I’m okay, but Murderface...yeah? Okay, so here’s what happened...” 

Pickles strode out of the room, the baggy still in his hands, as Nathan and Skwisgaar knelt down by Murderface, ignoring Toki as he dashed out of the room, gagging. 

“I just wants you to knows,” Skwisgaar said softly. “If you ams dead, then you dies making the best pumpkins carvings what we has ever seens.” 

“You did awesome,” Nathan agreed. “But also, please don’t die in the kitchen. We’ll have to get it like, cleaned and shit then. And I don’t wanna pay for that.” 

“I...did good?” Murderface gasped out. 

“Yeah,” Nathan said. “You did. But seriously, please don’t die here. If you have to die, save it for the ambulance?” 

\---

“Was it worth it?” Charles sighed, as he set Murderface’s pumpkin on the shelf in the window of his hospital room. “Severing your own fingers, just to win a carving contest?” 

“Yup,” Murderface smiled, waving his heavily bandaged, but successfully saved, fingers. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” 

“Nope,” Murderface shook his head. “And now, I gotta amp it up next year!” 

“Oh god.” 

“Maybe my whole hand...or an arm...” 

Charles grimaced. “Can you at least tell me in advance, next year? I can have an ambulance ready to go right away then...” 

“If you inschist,” Murderface shrugged. “But c’mon, admit it...it’sch good, isn’t it?” 

Charles looked to the pumpkin, and sighed deeply. “It is, Murderface. It is.” 

Murderface sat back in his bed, hit the remote pump for another bit of morphine, and smiled. He had ideas already for both his design, and what he might cut off to get that bout of blood splashed all over the pumpkin again. 

Next year was going to be a bloodbath, and it was going to be amazing. 


End file.
